Heroes in Uniform: Soldiers, SEALs, Spies, Rangers and Cops: Sexy Hot Contemporary Alpha Heroes From NY Times and USA Today Bestselling Authors

by Sharon Hamilton

  A drawer that held cutlery was partly open. She got a fork and took her meal to the table. Now that she knew the truth about Broderick—ah—Turner, she felt sick to her stomach. She forced herself to eat, to appear as if nothing had changed between them, but her stomach had knotted and the food sat like a lump.

  They ate in silence. He was obviously in no rush to begin her interrogation which reinforced her thought that he was waiting for Considine to arrive. The bitter thought tasted like bile. Her grip on the fork tightened. She forced herself to relax her hold so he wouldn’t notice that she was coiled as tight as a spring.

  He didn’t appear to notice anything had changed with her. In fact, he hadn’t even glanced her way. The man seemed lost in his own thoughts. She could relate since she was scrambling to come up with a way to make use of the set of keys hanging on a hook by the fridge. Specifically of the one with the SUV logo.

  Her fingers itched to snatch the key, but it was still mid morning. Hours before nightfall when he would sleep and, snowstorm or not, she could try to make her getaway.

  He finished eating then dumped his tray in the trash and the fork in the sink. He rubbed the night’s growth of beard on his chin and without a word, left her alone in the kitchen and went into the washroom. A few minutes later, she heard the shower.

  Mallory froze, listening to the water flowing through the pipes. She waited a moment. When the water continued, she pushed off the table and got to her feet. Heart pounding, she snatched the SUV key. Her boots were in a plastic tray by the front door and with her gaze fixed on the closed bathroom door, she put them on. As she eased the door open, she snagged her captor’s thick parka from a peg on the wall.

  Outside, the bright snow was blinding. She slipped on the jacket. It dwarfed her, falling to her knees. She pushed the sleeves way back to uncover her hands. With no time to waste on the zipper, she clutched the ends of the parka, and headed for the SUV.

  She fought the wind as it pushed her back one step for every two she took. It really had to be the wind that was strong; she couldn’t be this weak.

  The SUV was parked on a short driveway on one side of the cabin, and was covered in snow. She swiped the sleeve of the jacket across the windshield but there wasn’t time to clear the side windows or to dig out the tires. She could only hope that the four wheel drive was up to this challenge.

  She got in the driver’s side. Despite the wind, out here, without other traffic sounds, the engine would sound like a bomb when ignited, and she’d have only a few seconds before the man in the shower came after her. She stuck the key in the ignition.

  Her door flew open. Her captor, dressed in a T-shirt and jeans that were already dusted with snow, yanked out the key. His blond hair was plastered to his head, dripping water into his eyes. Shaving cream lined his jaw. It would have been comical if not for the angry glint in his eyes.

  Mallory scrambled over the console and out the passenger door. From where she now stood, she saw a window in the shower that had given him a view of her leaving. Her heart thudded. Her last chance at getting away had been blown.

  They stood facing off across the hood of the truck.

  “What the hell are you doing?” he shouted.

  “Getting out of here. What does it look like?”

  His expression was fierce. “You have a death wish, wait till you’re back wherever you came from to fulfill it.”

  Anger cut through her fear. “Cut the shit! I’m on to you!”

  “On to what?”

  “You lied to me!”

  “What are you talking about now?” he demanded.

  “You lied about who you are.”

  “You’re back to that?”

  “I saw your checkbook, Mitchell Turner.” Her strength was fading fast. Her words were becoming too spaced out. Being out here and talking to him was taking a toll. She only hoped he couldn’t hear that as well.

  His eyes bore into hers. “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you went through Mitch’s things.”

  “I’m getting out of here.” Her heart thumped harder. “Back off, Turner.”

  “Mitchell Turner is a friend of mine. This is his cabin. I’m staying here. I am Broderick.” He withdrew his wallet from a back pocket and flung it to her over the hood of the SUV. Without waiting to see if Mallory caught it, he turned and strode back into the cabin.

  She missed. The wallet landed in the snow at her feet. She fished it out then wiped off the snow and opened it.

  The man in the photograph was dressed in a suit and tie. His blond hair was shorter, but there was no mistaking that he was the man from the cabin.

  He was Gage Broderick, all right. Captain Gage Broderick of the Washington PD.

  Snowbound: Chapter Three

  Mallory stood staring at Gage’s ID. Her grip on the wallet tightened. The man was a cop. A Cop.

  She was no longer clutching Gage’s jacket. It was open to the wind. At this moment, she needed nothing more than the heat of her own body to warm her. Rather than telling her he was a cop, and allaying her suspicion and her fears, he’d left her in the dark. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this angry.

  She fought her way through the wind and blowing snow back to the cabin. Gage was at the kitchen counter when she entered, a towel slung around his neck, coffee pot in hand. Gone was the snow from his hair and the shaving cream from his jaw.

  Gage met her gaze. His eyes were dark with anger.

  Mallory slammed the door. “You’re a cop. Why didn’t you tell me that? We could have been spared a lot of trouble.” She shouted the words as she strode to where he stood, leaving damp trails of melted snow in her wake.

  “Find that reassuring do you?” His eye lids lowered. His eyes became shuttered. “Shouldn’t.”

  She’d thought she was as angry as she could get, but unbelievably, her anger climbed another notch. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  He didn’t respond.

  Mallory crossed her arms. “Well, Captain Gage Broderick of the Washington PD, I’m Special Agent Mallory Burke, Federal Bureau of Investigation.”

  His gaze slitted. He didn’t look happy about her introduction. Well, tough. She wasn’t happy with him either. “Aren’t you going to ask me what I’m doing here?”

  “No.” His jaw clenched. “All I’m interested in is getting you out of here.”

  Mallory was fuming. Though her mistaking him for one of Considine’s people was his fault since he hadn’t identified himself, it looked like it was up to her to explain the gravity of their situation and—though it left a sour taste in her mouth—to extend the olive branch. Tamping down on her anger, she decided to try a different approach. She removed her boots and replaced his jacket on the peg. Pushing the hair that had become wet from the snow back from her brow, she joined him at the counter.

  “You’re on vacation.” That was the only reason she could think for him being up here. Though she preferred a white sand beach and a Caribbean sun, to each his own. “Look, I get that and I’m sorry to crash your R and R.” And she was. She knew how important down time was in their line of work. “Now that I have, though, I’ll bring you up to speed on how I ended up here—”

  “Don’t.”

  “You don’t understand—”

  His pupils darkened. “I don’t care how you came to be here. As soon as the snow lets up, I’ll get you off this mountain and into town. You can forget you were ever here. That’s what I intend to do.”

  Mallory struggled for calm. “Look—”

  “No. You look.” He set the pot down on the counter with a thump. “First you jump me and try to stab me, and now you try to steal my truck. Like I said before, you’re some piece of work, Burke.”

  Mallory’s anger flared. “The reason I jumped you and tried to drive out of here just now was because I thought you were working for the man I’m investigating. Does the name Paul Considine mean anything to you?”

  “You already dropped that name a
nd I told you, never heard of him.”

  “Paul Considine is a crime lord. He knows that I’m on to him. He’s looking for me. When he finds me here, he’ll kill me and now, you, too.”

  Gage eyes blazed. “Just what the hell are you into for the Feds?”

  “I was looking into the disappearance of a nineteen-year-old woman.”

  Gage crossed his arms. “The FBI doesn’t investigate missing persons cases.”

  “The investigation started out unofficial. I follow missing persons cases involving young women.”

  Gage’s gaze grew intent. Hers was the kind of response that sparked more questions, but he didn’t press her for clarification, maybe wanting her to get the entire story out. Whatever his reason, she was glad. She had no intention of sharing that part of her life with him.

  “The day before the woman vanished,” Mallory went on, “she’d been seen at a strip club. When local police questioned the club manager, he said that the girl had come in looking for a job as a dancer, but had been turned away because she wasn’t talented. That would have been the end of it, but I found out that another woman, one year older, who had disappeared a few months earlier, had also been at that club.”

  Mallory rubbed her forehead. “I went to my superior with what I’d learned. He agreed that the connection between the women’s disappearance at the club was worth pursuing so I got a job there tending bar. I found out that twelve women had been abducted over a period of three months and are being held, awaiting transport out of the country. The club is a front for human traffickers.”

  Gage’s mouth tightened.

  Mallory laced her fingers in a fierce grip. “I found out where the women are being kept, but haven’t had a chance to take that information back to the Bureau. The trafficking operation is run by a man known only as the ‘Don’ but I believe the Don to be Paul Considine, a local organized crime boss.”

  Gage swore under his breath. “How did you get on Considine’s radar?”

  “My cover was blown.” She shook her head slowly. “I don’t know how that happened. I got away before he could question me about what I learned of his operation and made my way here.” She fixed Gage with a look. “I know you said you’d get me out of here when the storm ends but by now Considine is tracking me. He’ll have a fleet of snowmobiles. He will find me. That’s a given. It’s only a matter of when.” A chill went through her and she hugged herself.

  Gage went to the kitchen and took his service revolver from one of the drawers along with spare ammunition. He stood looking at the bullets then exhaled a deep breath.

  Mallory could see there weren’t many. “Is that all the ammo you have?”

  “Yeah.” He closed his fist around the few additional rounds. “We need to see what we have around here that can be used as a weapon.”

  He went to the door and put on his parka.

  Mallory gaped at him. “What are you doing?”

  He reached for his boots. “What does it look like?”

  “It looks like you’re going outside.”

  “A gold star for you.”

  Mallory crossed the room to where he stood, doing all she could to keep from dragging her injured leg. “Haven’t you been listening to what I said about Considine? His people could be out there, watching this place. Waiting to make a move.”

  “The snow hasn’t let up. Visibility is still almost nil. And it’s light out. If you were going to make a move on us, wouldn’t you wait until dark?”

  Mallory chewed her lip. She and Gage would be at their most vulnerable at night. Considine would take that advantage. She nodded.

  “You take a look in here,” Gage said. “I’ll see what I can scrounge up outside. I have a flare gun in the back of the truck for emergencies. There’s a shed out back. I’ll see if there’s anything in there we can use.” He picked up the shovel that was beside the hearth.

  No doubt he’d need to dig out the door to the shed before he could get inside. He’d be out there for a while. Mallory rubbed her forehead. She was torn between wanting the flare gun and anything else Gage could find and concern for his safety. Added to the threat of Considine, was the lack of visibility and the snow drifts that presented another form of danger. “Should we tie a rope around your waist so you’ll be able to find your way back here?”

  “Not necessary. The shed’s not far. I’ll be right back.”

  He opened the door, letting in a gust of air so cold, Mallory sucked in a breath. With her arms wrapped around herself, she went into the kitchen to begin her own search. Under the sink, she found a fire extinguisher. In a drawer, were a couple of wicked kitchen knives. The knives and extinguisher could only be used if Considine was in close. As she gathered the items, she hoped he wouldn’t have the chance to get that close.

  How much time had passed since Gage left? She couldn’t read the time from where she stood and returned to the living area. As she watched the hands on the small clock on the mantel move around the dial, she didn’t think the man had an understanding of “right back”. She’d heard of ranchers venturing out during snow storms and becoming disoriented and lost within a few steps. Just how ‘out back’ was the shed?

  She went to the window in the bedroom that overlooked the back of this property. Wiping her sleeve against the window did nothing more than make her arm cold. With the blowing snow, she certainly couldn’t see a shed, or Gage.

  Back in the living area, she looked around the cabin for rope. She found some coiled in a crate beside the hearth, atop a mountain of firewood. When twenty seven minutes had gone by, and Gage still hadn’t returned, she decided enough time had passed. She tied the rope to a support post. Tugging on it, she deemed it secure. As she put on her boots, she wished she still had her jacket.

  She was tying the rope around her waist when the door swung inward. Gage, covered in snow, stood on the threshold. She never thought she’d say this about him, but she was thrilled to see him. Mallory stepped back to allow him to enter.

  His movements were a little measured, a little stiff as he made his way inside. He set the items he’d brought back with him on the floor. In addition to the flare gun, he’d returned with additional flares, a spool of fence wire, wire cutters, and a can of gasoline.

  He paused, taking off one glove and pointed to the rope at her waist. “What are you doing? Don’t tell me you were thinking of going outside?”

  “I was doing more than thinking about it. You’ve been gone for almost half an hour. I was afraid you’d gotten lost in the storm.”

  “So you were—what—going to pull a rescue?”

  At his tone, she raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I was.”

  “That would have been a fool thing to do.”

  Mallory bristled. “Really?”

  “Yeah, really. While I know my way around this place, you don’t. You would have surely gotten lost and when I got back here, I would have had to go back out looking for you.”

  Mallory lifted her brows. “Well, put that way, what an inconvenience that would have been for you. I’m glad I didn’t attempt it.” Her voice dripped sarcasm.

  “That makes two of us.”

  Granted he had not seen her at her best since they’d met, but she was intelligent and competent. To join the Bureau, she’d been required to pass similar tests to what had been required of him for the police force, including physical and endurance tests and she resented his attitude that she was incapable.

  Gage unlaced his boots, then went into the kitchen and set the items on the table. He shrugged out of his parka and slung it over a chair.

  Putting aside her resentment for the moment, she focused on mounting their defense against Considine. “What’s the plan?”

  “We’re making bombs.”

  “What can I do to help?”

  Gage picked up the towel on the counter that he’d used after Mallory’s attempt to leave in his truck and dried his face and hair. “There are a few bottles of beer in the fridge. Would you get the
m? Look for glass bottles or jars as well.”

  A few moments later, she closed the fridge door and placed the bottles on the kitchen table. She moved to the pantry cupboard and dug out a jar of spaghetti sauce which she held up.

  Gage nodded. “Five in total. Empty them and hand them to me, would you?”

  She poured the beer into the sink, then passed the empties to Gage. The sauce went next.

  Gage poured gasoline into them. The smells of beer and tomato sauce and the odor of gasoline hung in the air.

  When he finished filling the bottles and the jar with the gas, he put his parka on again. “I’m going to plant these.”

  “I’ll give you a hand.”

  He shook his head. “Would be rough going in the snow with that foot. I’ll do this.”

  Since Miles and Hugo had put her in their car, Mallory felt as if her life was spinning out of control and there was nothing she could do about it. She needed to do something to regain that control. She had no intention of blurting that out to Gage. Instead she said, “I’ll be fine. I want to help.”

  Gage studied her for a moment, then took his parka from the back of the chair and held it out to her. “Put this on.”

  “What about you?”

  “Mitch left one in the hall closet.”

  Gage returned wearing the extra parka and they left the cabin. The wind shrieked, overriding all other sound. Though Gage was only a couple of feet in front of her, she couldn’t make him out in the blowing snow. It was only when he stopped moving, and she caught right up to him that he became visible again.

  Blinking snow from her eyes, Mallory watched as he went about setting the bottles at intervals beneath the Evergreens that grew beyond the cabin. He was establishing a pattern, she realized, placing a bottle beneath each third tree, beginning with the first one in the line, so they’d know where each of the crude bombs was. Then, he dug a hole in the snow to both anchor and conceal a bottle.

  Mallory flexed her fingers in the over-sized gloves that had been in the jacket pockets then held out her hand to Gage. He handed one of the bottles to her. She crouched and did as he had.